


comme cela devrait être (as it should be)

by derseroyalty



Category: Banana Bus Squad
Genre: Blood and Violence, Gangs, M/M, also tyler is still. a dumbass., there's mentions of harassment 'n shit but it never gets too far, uhhhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 05:47:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15503646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/derseroyalty/pseuds/derseroyalty
Summary: By day, they’re controlling Los Santos and making sure they’re the kings of it all. By night, they’re drinking and playing games with each other.Tyler doesn’t know exactly what kind of game Evan is playing at, but he seems to be wrapped around this owl’s finger every step of the way.(or: Tyler is very, very jealous and Evan gets hit on way too often.)





	comme cela devrait être (as it should be)

**Author's Note:**

> I accidentally got addicted to reading Achievement Hunter fics after I started watching Play Pals to rekindle my old 2014 self. I’ve also read way too many gang stories with my darling Gavin and…well…
> 
> let’s just say I have several favorite tropes and this is definitely one of them.

Friday night, they’re all headed out their usual bar to celebrate a heist gone well.

Marcel’s the first one in; all loud and rambunctious, his ridiculous Finn hat plopped on his curly hair. He’s got his arm wrapped around Scotty, who’s wearing a simple gray t-shirt. He looks tired; the computer screens have taken a toll on his eyesight and he’s lost enough sleep to try and keep them safe, but the smile on his face is still genuine.

Smitty and John pile after them, already giggling to themselves. The Canadian is hyped up on energy drinks and adrenaline from actually being out in the field instead of being their usual hacker and a faint cloud of vape follows the two as they enter the bar. 

Tyler makes his way in with his giant fluffy coat, narrowed eyes cutting to the two that were already supposed to meet them there. Across the bar, he hears Jon’s cackle and Evan’s spilled laughter and he automatically makes his way to the two of them. 

Before he can make it, Marcel’s hand claps him on the shoulder. “We fucking did it!” The man shouts, grin evident as he tries to reach up and ruffle Tyler’s hair. “Dude, I’m so glad you’re on the vanguard, because that shit was amazing! Are you gonna get wasted tonight?” 

Tyler glances over to Evan and spots their beloved arsonist and explosive expert throwing his head back to laugh, cheeks already flushed as him and Jon down more shots and slur words together. He can already see Jon’s hand on his arm and he clenches a fist involuntarily. 

“Yeah,” he says in response, and Marcel cheers before dragging him off to the bartender.

* * *

The thing is, Tyler Wine doesn’t exactly know why he’s so protective of Evan Fong.

Marcel Cunningham, the so-called ‘leader’ of the Banana Bus Squad, first came to Los Santos to try and get money and a place to stay. He ended up pissing off a rival gang due to his big mouth and pride and in doing so, recruited a bunch of mercenaries to get rid of these fuckers. 

Tyler himself was already well known throughout the city as Wildcat, the man who had a reputation for brutally beating the absolute shit out of his hits. By the time Marcel had the balls to approach him, he had already recruited several people into his impromptu gang.

Scotty Charles and Anthony Brown were a strange duo; they were both pretty decent shots, but they specialized in charming their enemies and getting info from them. It was especially essential since everyone else in the crew had an itchy trigger finger.

Brian Hanby and David Nagle (or Daithi/Nogla, as they affectionately dubbed him) were both Irish and dealt with either guns or punches. Nogla could take a beating and although Brian constantly complained about his companion, he never left Daithi behind despite the odds against him. 

Craig Thompson and Evan Fong were also foreigners. They apparently stayed in the same apartment before Evan accidentally created a small bomb and then proceeded to set fire to the entire place, thus earning him a guaranteed spot in the crew while Craig was just damn good with guns. 

Marcel decided to pull some favors one day and invited the mad man of Los Santos himself into their home; Delirious, a feared assassin and someone who was so secretive that majority of the crew had never seen him before. Rumors carried far however, and Delirious indeed lived up to them.

The masked assassin had taken one step into the base and paused when Evan had exclaimed from his spot in front of the TV, “I’ve seen you before! You were the guy at the nightclub that I blew up several weeks ago.”

Even with the mask, Tyler could see the eyebrows rising. “I was pinned after I left you on the dance floor and the bomb literally saved my ass. So you’re the notorious Vanoss, huh?”

Evan gestured to the owl mask lying next to him and threw Delirious a controller, successfully ensuring the Banana Bus Squad’s place in Los Santos for many more years to come. 

They both never did end up explaining how they met.

Smitty and John were the last duo; they were clearly running from issues they didn’t want to deal with and it seemed they found solace in each other. Smitty was a damn good hacker with computers, always making sure the crew got away, and John was a hell of a shot with a sniper. 

Together, they were a family, and Tyler did genuinely cherish every single one of them. He knows they can handle their own, so why protect the arsonist? The explosives dude? 

Fucking hell.

* * *

There is only so much that Tyler can take before he’s dragging his gaze back to Jon and Evan. After more successful heists, Delirious grew comfortable enough to take off the mask and properly befriend everyone. 

It seemed as though he was most comfortable with Evan, and it’s clear in the way the two laugh together and drunkenly try to compete in rock, paper, scissors. 

Someone taps him on the shoulder; it’s the bartender, Brock. He was one of the most respected civilians in the city and dealt with gang members daily, even enduring the BBS on the nights that they won and lost. 

You fucked with Brock, you were dead. Simple as that. 

“Yes?” Tyler asks, because he has goddamn manners and he wasn’t raised in a barn contrary to popular belief because of the pig mask. “Something up?”

Brock just glances over at the BBS wildly cheering and celebrating. Tyler catches a glimpse of Brian hollering as he carries Smitty on his back, the latter (legally, for once) chugging a bottle of beer as Brian grasps onto his thighs. 

“Why aren’t you over there?” Brock asks kindly. His rainbow tank top seems out of place in this establishment but they aren’t exactly normal patrons. “I watched bits and pieces of the heist from the TV, it was very impressive! Well done, Wildcat.”

“Thank you,” Tyler replies. “I’ll hang out with them later. Just tired. Daithi got shot in the shoulder by the cops so we’re having Mini Ladd help patch him up.”

As per fucking usual, his eyes drift back to Evan, and suddenly the blood roars in his ears. Delirious is GONE and in his place is a guy with smooth blond hair with a nice beard, leaning over the Canadian while saying something.

Evan’s giggling and trailing his fingers up the guy’s arm, leaving Tyler to get up. He swears he sees red and Brock just murmurs to not leave stains on the floor as the gang member makes his way to the other two. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Tyler spits, anger flashing in his eyes. For a moment, he’s not sure who it’s directed at, but both of the guys jolt and look over at Tyler. 

“Picking someone up?” Evan says confused, and the guy tries not to laugh. “It’s alright, Vanoss.” The man’s voice has a heavy Swedish accent and he seems genuinely pleased to see one of the most feared men in Los Santos. “Thank you for keeping me company.”

“It’s all good, Pewds,” Evan claps the guy on the back, and Tyler narrows his eyes at the infamous Felix before the Swedish man vanishes back into the comfortable atmosphere of the bar. 

“Why the fuck were you trying to pick up the former leader of this city?!” Tyler snarls, trying not to let his rage get the best of him. Evan’s about a year younger than him and although Smitty was the last one of their group to turn 21, Vanoss was still the immature and childish dude that joined in with ridiculous stunts. 

Evan gives a half-hearted shrug and downs the rest of his beer. “We were both lonely and both the guys we like don’t like us back. Figured a quick hookup would be fun, but now that I’m a bit more sober I’ve realized that would’ve been a bad idea.”

Tyler blinks once, twice, before registering the words. “You…You have a crush on someone?”

It’s a bit startling to see Vanoss’s cheeks burn a bright red, but it’s there under the lights of the bar. “Uh,” Evan stammers, but he’s saved by the presence of Delirious.

“Wildcat!” The assassin slurs, clearly drunker than before. He’s holding two vodka shots in his hands, offering one to the still startled Evan. “Dude, _hic,_ you gotta drink with us!”

“Maybe later,” Tyler mutters, and he turns to leave. “See you guys back at the base.”

“Tyler,” Evan’s voice falls unheard and Tyler stalks his way through the crowd. They part effortlessly and it takes him only a moment to talk to Brock about where he’s going. The bartender nods once, and Wildcat heads home.

Evan’s secret crush still burns in his heart and he _doesn’t know why._

Something is definitely wrong with him.

* * *

A week later, Marcel needs Evan and Scotty to infiltrate a base and blow it up due to the threat in power they were receiving. 

In case something goes wrong, Vanoss teaches Scott the mere basics of explosives. “The grenades in this pack have a lot of charge in them,” the Canadian warns him. “For the love of everything, do not throw this anywhere near the area you’re in. You have to throw these at least 20 feet, okay? The blast radius is a bit much.” 

“Fucking Christ,” Brian cracks up at the horrified look on Scotty’s face. “Ev, remember to at least be charming too!”

Tyler gets assigned to be the muscle for this mission. Scott has to get them in first, and then Evan would excuse himself to go to the bathroom to go plant the bomb. Tyler was just the bodyguard to make sure they would be alright. 

The three head out in their best; suits, hidden weapons, and the bombs they need along with documents to make a “trade”. They get into the car and drive on over to the base for the meeting. 

When someone opens the door, Scotty smiles charmingly at the man with deep brown hair. “Fourzero,” he offers his hand. “That’s Vanoss, and this is Wildcat.” He gestures to the two behind him; Evan waves, and Tyler just merely grunts. 

The man—Derek, or whatever the fuck his name was—smiles at them and leads them inside. “It’s an honor to have you here,” he practically coos. “Please, let us discuss this deal we’re offering!” 

He leads them inside, attention primarily focused on Evan. The two chat with smiles on their faces and Tyler manages his growl by digging his nails into Scotty’s suit. The other looks up at him, confused, but then a realization comes over him and he does his best not to laugh. 

Derek leads them to a normal conference table. He sits at one end, Scotty on the other. Tyler and Evan both take their places on either side of Scott. 

“Now, business.” Scotty says, eyes flashing as he smiles. Tyler hands over the documents that were carefully forged by Smitty; no contract would be legally binding and the fine print was a bit too fine. “You have requested to deal with the Banana Bus Squad. What is it you want in return and for how much?”

Derek waves a careless hand. “Just a supply of weapons, and perhaps some explosives as well. I merely want to rule Los Santos alongside Basically.”

On the other side of Scott, Evan stiffens and Tyler carefully watches him. The Canadian was unnaturally good at catching lies and this one meant business. 

Scotty pretends to consider it. “I will have to talk to Basically about it, but it does seem feasible. And if we want something in return, what will you need for it?”

Ah, Scotty. Ever the charmer, with his wavy brown hair and sparkling blue eyes. Derek merely grins however and his focus turns to Evan, who narrows his eyes. “All I want,” the man says with a smirk, “is a night with that fine ass.”

Silence falls. Tyler’s standing before he even knows it, right hand already clenched into a fist. “Absolutely not.” 

“Wildcat,” Scotty breaks the silence, doing his best to signal _‘shut the fuck up before you get us killed’._ “If this is what he wants, and Vanoss is okay with it, then I see no reason why we should turn him down.”

Tyler whirls around to Evan, who’s already nodding with a flirty smile. “I’d be honored,” he purrs, and Derek’s ego literally inflates right then and there.

“C’mere then,” Derek beckons him over. Evan stands and confidently walks over, only stumbling once as he trips over Scott’s shoe. “Fuck, sorry,” he apologizes, winking at Tyler before making his way to Derek. 

Tyler stares back with a horrified and furious look, sitting down in his chair as Vanoss promptly sits as well on the guy’s lap, the other guy chuckling low in his throat. Scotty stands up. “May I be excused to the bathroom?” He requests, standing in a somewhat submissive manner to give proof that there was nothing to worry about.

Son of a bitch, his boys are damn good at their jobs. He knows EXACTLY what Evan just did; albeit sketchy, and he was definitely going to have a talk with him later about Derek, but other than that it was foolproof. 

Derek just waves him aside, more concerned with the very cute boy in his lap. Tyler’s nails dig into his palm and draw a bit of blood as Scotty hurries out of the room.

With no warning, Derek presses a kiss into Evan’s neck. Only Tyler can see the way Evan’s brown eyes widen and his mouth parts in shock. A second later, he’s regained his bearings and he smiles down at Derek. 

_For the love of god Scott HURRY THE FUCK UP._

There’s nothing he can do. Tyler’s stuck watching Derek get close to fondling his arsonist up and all he can think of is how slowly he’s going to kill him if the bomb doesn’t get him first. 

“You’re fucking hot,” Derek mutters into Evan’s neck. “I cannot wait to take you apart when we get back to my apartment.” 

Tyler closes his eyes and tries not to growl, hand instinctively reaching for the knife hidden in his suit. 

_Scotty, please, if you blow this entire fucking place up I’m taking you to your favorite food place and ordering you everything on the menu please please please—_

Somewhere deep in the building, there’s a screech, a yelp, and then a very loud, _“OH FUCK”_ before the entire base detonates. 

The walls of the conference room crumble and Derek lets out a very unattractive squawk, letting Evan slide down to the ground. Tyler wastes no time leaping over the table and digging his knife into Derek’s thigh, the man letting out a wail. 

“Go get Fourzero!” Tyler yells at Evan, and the owl is so startled that he just rushes out of the room with a gun in one hand and another bomb in the other. 

“What the fuck do you want with me?” Derek sobs, body still stiff with shock from the bomb and knife. Tyler has to make this quick but he’s very pleased to be able to make him suffer.

“Normally I would’ve left you to burn alive in the fire, but you just felt up what’s mine.” Tyler snarls in Derek’s ear, the man trembling beneath his grip. “You wanted to make him yours? Spoiler alert, fucker, HE’S MINE.” 

Wildcat rips out the knife and slashes at everything in sight, rage burning in his fingertips and heart. It isn’t until a hand is tugging him back that he whirls around to spot Evan with his mask on. 

Even with the bored yellow eyes from the mask, he can still see the way Vanoss’s eyes are wide. “Wildcat,” he tugs on his sleeve, “we gotta fucking go, dude. He’s dead, okay?” 

Tyler slips the bloody knife back into its hiding place and graciously takes the pig mask that’s offered to him, breathing in heavily before he grabs Evan and drapes him over his shoulder. The owl gasps before Tyler books it outside. 

Scotty’s already in the driver’s seat. “GET THE FUCK IN!” He hollers, revving the engine. Wildcat throws himself and Vanoss into the passenger seat, heart pounding as Scott races out of the parking lot. He tosses a detonator to Evan; the owl’s eyes light up before he excitedly presses the button, grinning as the rest of the base explodes into a fiery ball of yellow. 

“What took you so long?” Tyler asks, veering with Scotty’s frantic turns as he holds onto Evan. “I was seconds away from losing my shit. Also, I owe you food from Olive Garden.” 

Scotty chuckles nervously but also perks up at the thought of food. “Fuck yeah! About the bomb, uh, I was in the middle of planting it when some guy spotted me and I panicked and threw a grenade. And then another one.” 

Evan snickers, leaning back into Tyler’s lap. “Thanks for getting me out of there,” he whispers into Tyler’s ear. “It’s different than flirting with strangers at bars, y’know? That guy was a fucking creep. I really appreciate what you did for me.”

Wildcat’s cheeks heat up and he turns his head defiantly, ignoring Evan’s giggle. “It was whatever.” 

He definitely didn’t expect to feel Evan’s lips press against his cheek, but he’d fight all the mob bosses in Los Santos just for another kiss—and that list definitely included Marcel. 

Evan’s still looking at him with a certain look on his face and Tyler just closes his eyes, zoning out as they make it back to the base.

* * *

Strangers flirting with Evan was one thing. Members of the BBS were entirely another.

Back at Brock’s bar, Tyler finds himself chatting with Smitty and Nogla, grinning at the Irishman who’s doing his best to stomach a full beer. “You’re Irish, dipshit, how the fuck can’t you do this?” Tyler asks incredulously while Smitty has tears running down his face from laughter. 

“Fuck ye!” Nogla spits, his voice already slurring. “It’s not my fault my focking stomach can’t deal with this shit!”

Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Brian making his way over to their little trio. The other Irishman jumps in and whispers into Smitty’s ear; after a moment, the Canadian’s eyes go huge and he gasps, “Fuck YES I’m in.” The two shake, and Brian immediately leaves to another group that’s near the pool table.

Smitty leaps up to follow and Tyler excuses himself, walking after the younger boy and squeezing into the crowd. For a moment, his heart stops, and he recognizes Evan as the focus of attention as per usual. 

The boys are playing Billiards; Marcel’s losing again and Evan looks damn confident as he lines up his last solid ball. The crowd goes quiet and with a solid strike from the cue stick, the ball goes shooting into a corner pocket. 

“You bitch,” Marcel says with no real anger behind it. Next to him, Delirious cracks the fuck up.

Evan sticks his tongue out and goes for the 8 ball. At this, the crowd leans in excitedly, voices rising with anticipation. It seems as though Evan’s waiting for them to calm down before Brian’s voice carries across the room. 

“IF YOU MAKE THIS SHOT I’LL MAKE OUT WITH YOU!”

Tyler stiffens, spotting the Irishman deep into the crowd and near Evan. As Vanoss looks up, surprised, Terrorsier just winks and the owl throws his head back to laugh. “Deal!” 

With a confidence that startles even Brian, Evan effortlessly lines up the shot and sends it flying within seconds of adjusting. It rolls around the pool table before making its way to a middle pocket; for a brief moment, it wavers on the edge, and then falls in to the roar of the crowd. 

“FUCK!” Marcel shouts with a grin on his face. “Claim your prize, owl boy!” Delirious hoots and cheers with a beer in his hand. 

Evan opens his arms and Tyler’s already rushing forward, alarm striking through him as Brian cups the Canadian’s cheeks. 

Tyler’s too late as he watches Brian lean in and Evan eagerly lift up on his toes. 

Their lips meet to the cheer of the people watching and Tyler just storms off outside, the bottle in his hand cracking under the pressure. He’s too late. Of course it’d be Brian, he was the pretty boy of the group and son of a fucking bitch OF COURSE it’s Brian and why couldn’t he see it before—

“Wildcat?”

His train of thought is broken by Craig’s voice. The Brit usually hung around Kyroz and Anthony these days, and Tyler had genuinely missed their dynamic on heists and shit like that. 

“Are you alright?” Craig asks, eyebrows furrowing. He had apparently followed him outside the bar. “Was it because of Terroriser and Vanoss?”

They always have to use their code names in public while they’re on business and suddenly Tyler can’t do it anymore. “Yeah,” he snaps, angrily throwing the bottle to the ground. Craig jumps back to avoid the wave of glass. “Real fucking peachy, huh? Brian can’t keep his fucking hands off Evan and I’m supposed to just sit there and not do anything?”

Craig’s eyes widen at the casual names but he says nothing about those. “Tyler…are you jealous of Brian?”

_Jealous._

Oh, fuck. 

Tyler makes a strangled choking noise and Craig immediately steps forward, only pausing once he realizes that the other isn’t actually dying. “Are you?”

“Fuck,” Tyler swears, and he shuts his eyes. The possessiveness, the need to make sure Evan’s okay, the aggressiveness with Derek…it made sense and he fucking hated it.

Craig’s silent as he steps forward to wrap Tyler into a hug, blinking as the giant man collapses into his arms. “You know it was just a bet, right?” He says, and at that Tyler’s head jerks up and nearly knocks Craig’s glasses off his face. 

“WHAT?!”

“Yeah, Delirious and Brian started the bet and Smitty joined in right before it happened.” Craig shrugs. “Jon said he would be a bitch and not do it, and Smitty bet the opposite. It was pretty impressive though.”

Tyler sinks to the ground and Mini snickers as he tries to support the other man’s weight. “Get the fuck up, dramatic looking ass bitch. You’ve still got a chance with Evan, alright? Besides, we’ve got a bet on you guys too so please don’t lose that for me.” 

Wildcat clenches Craig’s arm in response to that. “You WHAT?”

“Man, you’re really behind on this shit.” Craig shakes his head mournfully. “No shit, idiot. It’s really fucking obvious you like him and Evan isn’t as oblivious as you think. You just keeping acting aloof and weird as fuck so he doesn’t know whether or not to make a move.”

“You know an awful lot about Evan,” Tyler grumbles. Mini throws his hands into the air. “NO FUCKING SHIT, DUMBASS! We were roommates until he blew the goddamn apartment up!”

“And they were roommates,” Tyler mocks him, and Craig breaks out into his obnoxious but lovable laughter. 

“But seriously,” Craig wipes a tear away, “make a fucking move. It’s a win-win situation; I get $500, and you get the love of your life. Capiche?” 

“Shut the fuck up.” That’s a yes in Tyler’s world, and Mini’s hazel eyes glow with excitement. “Good! Now get back inside and help me beat Daithi and Anthony in a drinking contest.”

“That’s something I can easily do,” Tyler laughs out loud for the first time that night. “C’mon bitch boy, let’s do this shit.” 

(They wake up with awful hangovers but there’s video proof that they beat Nogla and Panda, so in reality they definitely won.)

* * *

Maybe…maybe Tyler’s going the wrong way about this. Should he make Evan jealous on purpose? 

No, that’s shitty. Besides, he murmured it out loud in front of Anthony and got promptly slapped. He apologized under Anthony’s glare and said he was just stressing about asking Evan out.

At that, Anthony had softened and told him to just do it in his own special way. “Evan just has a pretty face, and he’s genuinely nice to people. It looks like he’s flirting but most of the time he really isn’t.” Anthony had explained. 

It was an understandable reason and Tyler vowed that he wouldn’t purposely make Evan jealous. Besides, the Canadian wasn’t doing it on purpose either; it was just how he really was, and Tyler did love him for it. 

At some point, he has to put a plan into action. His love life (and Craig’s bet) were on the line and FUCK he was getting impatient. How the fuck could Tyler kill everyone in a room but not muster up the courage to ask this motherfucker out? 

He finally gets his shot on a late Saturday night, when the crew just heads out to a bar other than Brock’s. Marcel had heard some decent reviews so they decided to give it a shot and see how it was. 

The men and women in there are threatening but can be brought down immediately if needed. Marcel and co. are definitely the most dangerous people in this bar and it shows as the invisible hierarchy adjusts to the Banana Bus Squad. 

As per usual on their bar runs, Delirious orders shots for everyone and people approach a few members of the gang. A woman makes her way to Evan with eyelashes fluttering and chest pushed out, but the man in the red jacket politely waves her off. 

Tyler lets himself take several shots to loosen up his nerves, laughing and partying with the crew. He’s honestly having the time of his life while dancing with Craig and then Anthony and then Smitty and the list goes on and on.

His beloved arsonist, however, never makes it into his arms. 

A few hours into the night, Tyler realizes he hasn’t seen Evan at all in the crowd. Normally he wouldn’t have to worry, but this isn’t their usual bar and this bartender doesn’t give a single shit about anyone. 

“Vanoss?” He shouts in the bar, and he has a height advantage that he definitely tries to use. There’s a flash of red at the exit and he does his best to shove his way through the crowd as he recognizes Evan's spiky black hair. A stupid goddamn rave is going on and they’re not moving at ALL get the FUCK out of his WAY—

For a split second, Tyler’s ice blue eyes lock with Evan’s honey brown as the owl gets hauled through a door by a huge man, and they’re full of _so much fear that his heart stops._

Tyler yells so fucking loud that the crowd parts for him and he storms through in a blaze of fury and rage. Behind him, the BBS makes various noises of shock and horror and they do their best to follow. 

He channels the persona of Wildcat, feeling the rage course through him as he slips on a pair of knuckles from his pocket. They settle on nice and warm and he bursts through the door where Evan got taken, wild eyes landing on the boy at the end of the alleyway. 

The man who grabbed Evan has his wrists pinned and another hand feeling up the owl, grin evident as Evan does his best to land solid kicks on his ribs. The owl’s boots are equipped with steel toes but the man just easily avoids them while keeping his grip firm. 

"TYLER!" Evan howls once he catches sight of the taller boy. "KICK HIS ASS, BABE!"

The babe comment doesn't register until Tyler's already slamming his knuckles into the guy's face, snarling and spitting in fury as he rains hell on the fucker. Blood splatters his shirt and goddamn it he actually liked this one. 

Behind him, he barely makes out Anthony comforting Evan while Marcel tugs Tyler away. "We got this," he says firmly. "Go make sure he's okay."

Delirious claps Tyler on the back with a grin before he pulls out a switchblade and goes to town on the attacker, the rest of the boys jumping in as well.

"Dude, that was brutal." Anthony admires the blood-splattered Tyler as he slumps against the wall to reach for Evan. "And very impressive and I'm gonna go bring the car around now."

Panda heads off and Tyler just slowly wraps Evan into his chest, breathing heavily into the owl's raven black hair. "I'm okay," Evan huffs. "He just got the jump on me and luckily for me, you were there. Are you okay?"

"No," Tyler buries his face into Evan's hair. "I almost lost you."

"But you didn't," Evan reminds him with a smile. "You're always there protecting me."

They're silent for a long moment before Tyler says, "Did you call me babe?"

Vanoss ducks his head and Wildcat doesn't have to know that his cheeks are blazing red. "Maybe. Yes. Yeah. I really like you, dumbass."

"Oh thank god." Tyler mutters over the sounds of the BBS still beating up the guy. "Turns out I was insanely jealous over your good looks attracting people, and I think I'm a bit grumpy about it. Brian really took the wind out of my sails with that kiss."

"That was a bet," Evan says almost bashfully. "Sorry about that. But...do you really want to be with me? I like blowing shit up and I start fires all the goddamn time."

Tyler stares at him and closes his eyes, hoping that Craig will never be able to hear what he says next. "Ev, you started a fire in my heart, and I don't want it going out anytime soon."

Evan's eyes go fucking huge before he tackles the shit out of Wildcat, cracking up as Tyler grins and presses kisses all over his face. "You dumb bitch," Vanoss chokes out. "Let's go on a date and eat pizza or something." 

"You and your pizza," Tyler laughs. He raises his voice and hollers, "CRAIG! YOU WON YOUR BET!"

There's loud cursing and angry yells as Mini screeches, dancing with joy as Tyler cups Evan's cheeks and tug him into a very well-deserved kiss. 

This was their first kiss and it definitely wouldn't be their last; something clicks and the universe sighs with relief, as everything's just as it should be.

**Author's Note:**

> please give me time on my other stories; I'm working on the final chapters for 'what remains' and still working on 'drabbles of starlight' and 'act one scene zero'. 
> 
> I also have sequels planned for 'Seasons' and 'Zodiac', so be on the lookout for those once I finish the ones mentioned above!! :))


End file.
